


It Feels Safe

by Simply_Isnt_On



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesia, Comfort, Gen, Jossed, Sacrifice, fallen!cas, set just after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:45:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simply_Isnt_On/pseuds/Simply_Isnt_On
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas fell. Then he forgot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Feels Safe

Cas forgot.  
  
He woke in the underbrush with a name on his lips, but nothing in his mind. He managed to stumble to a road, where he hitchhiked into the nearest town. He used the false IDs in the pocket of his trench coat and the wad of cash in the other to get a motel room, and wandered around the town.  
  
The first day, he simply sat in a BigGerson’s, drinking coffee and watching the patrons move and talk around him, brow furrowed. On his way back to his motel room, he passed a second-hand store, and as he looked up, his eyes caught and held on a leather jacket, comfortably worn, and on impulse he slipped in to try it on. It felt familiar, and made him feel safe.  
  
Over the next week, he somehow managed to acquire a pair of jeans and a few shirts, undershirts in neutral, earthy colors, and a handful of plaid over-shirts. At first, he buttoned the plaid ones, but that didn’t feel right, and then he left them to hang free.  
  
He found work in a carpenter’s shop, learning to sand, to etch, to measure twice and cut once. He received copious slivers, and for some reason, the pain which dulled but didn’t disappear always surprised him. Surely he’d injured himself before?  
  
One day, on his way back to the motel, where he was now almost a permanent resident, he happened to kick his foot against something that glinted as it bounced off his shoe. Curious, he bent to pick it up, and discovered a brass-colored charm on a black string. Instinctively he closed his hands around it, the reptilian shape feeling implicitly familiar.   
  
He took a deep breath and unclenched his fingers, then tied it around his neck, where it rested against his sternum, making him feel calmer. With the necklace safe around his neck (and why was that safe, he wondered?) he continued on his way, hands in his pockets.  
  
***  
  
When he went to get a driver’s license, he hesitated on the name slot, then wrote, with hesitant letters, “Dean Winchester" on the line for his name. After all, that name felt safe. And safe was what mattered, wasn’t it?


End file.
